


It Had Always Been Him

by honeybreadbutterfly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Tether(s), F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Smut, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9077902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybreadbutterfly/pseuds/honeybreadbutterfly
Summary: Lydia's and Stiles' emotions are linked, they don't know though, Stiles has a panic attack and Lydia feels it





	

Lydia was sitting on her bed when she felt something around her heart grow warm. It made her instantly happy. She was used to it by now. It happened basically every day.

At first she was scared of it, feared that these could be signs of a supernatural disaster lying ahead, or an evil spirit that had clung to her soul, but now she just took them as they came. Ever since the nogitsune she had had them. She had told Deaton about them, only Deaton, but he couldn’t give her a clear answer. He had told her though that there was something he suspected, but he couldn’t confirm it and if it was what he thought, it was nothing to worry about. Even though Lydia wasn’t very content with that answer, she let it be, taking the external mood swings as they came. Sometimes it was the warmth she felt now, but sometimes it was an ache in the same place, a darkness growing around her heart. It varied, of course. In intensity and frequency, but never in consistency. Ever since the first time she had felt it, it hadn’t gone away.

The very first time it happened was the night of Allison’s death. The night Stiles was freed of the nogitsune’s spirit. It wasn’t a very clear emotion, but it was such an intense mix of heat and cold and ache and horror, that she had collapsed in her room. She had thought she was having a heart attack, nothing too surprising she had thought resentfully, but after a couple of minutes, the heat and the cold and the ache and the horror simply died down and went away.

Lydia had thought it was a weird one time thing, because after that incident she hadn’t felt it again for at least two weeks. But then, one afternoon she was spending with Kira, she had felt the warmth for the first time. It had felt like a bright light illuminating every cell of her body. It had practically forced her to smile. She couldn’t help herself back then, but it felt so amazing she even cried. Kira was worried of course, but Lydia said that everything was okay, for the first time in such a long time, everything seemed to be fine. She knew it. She could feel it.

Lydia didn’t know if it was her banshee abilities trying to tell her something, a theory she clung on to the first month of experiencing them. She always wrote down when they happened, where they happened and what she felt. But after taking notes for two or three weeks she still couldn’t make out a pattern. They seemed to appear arbitrarily. After two months she gave up. Her mood swings didn’t seem to indicate something, nothing horrible had happened, and if something was to happen, she didn’t know how she would be able to tell by what she was experiencing.

It was a Saturday afternoon in the lead up to Christmas and Lydia was sitting in her warm bed with fuzzy socks and a thick pullover. It was extremely cold outside and her windows didn’t shield the cold as good as they were supposed to. The strawberry blonde was studying for a biology AP exam which was coming up. She knew her notes by heart, but not because she had learnt them, but simply because she had remembered them the first time she had written them down. She knew it was useless to read them again, they weren’t going to tell her anything she didn’t already know, but sometimes it calmed her down, simply to read her notes and check if she really did remember everything.

She was looking at the exact same line for the 10th time, reading and rereading it simply because it was the most difficult line in her whole script, yet she still couldn’t make out the difficult part of it. She kept looking at the red exclamation mark she had drawn there, to remember it’s importance, and she could clearly remember her professor telling them that it was the most crucial thing to remember and yes, probably the most difficult as well, but Lydia couldn’t make out what wasn’t obvious about it. At first she thought that she had got it wrong, that she didn’t understand because it seemed so mundane, but after checking the web and her textbook for the 100th time, she just accepted that she had outwitted the book.

Lydia sighed and put her notes down, now sure that reading them again would make no sense whatsoever and was about to go downstairs to check if there was something in the fridge when she felt a horrible stinging pain around her heart. She collapsed on her bed, breathing heavily. Not again, she thought. But this time something was different. She lay on her bed shaking, feeling unable to move, pure horror rising inside of her. Something she had never felt before. For one short moment, she considered the possibility that she was going to die, but she pushed the thought away and got up with determination. She had the strong urge to get to her car and drive somewhere, even though she didn’t know where or why, but she followed her instinct, pushing all doubts to the back of her head.

The first wave of horror had died down, leaving this fear and uncomfortableness behind, that clung to her heart like a child not wanting to let go of their mothers hand. Lydia was just in sweatpants and her pullover. She didn’t put on her coat, or scarf. She didn’t even put on her shoes. She simply ran out of the door, into the cold winters night, sprinting for her car. Her whole body was shaking, now probably due to the cold as well. Her toes and fingers were numb, her nose was running. She hadn’t even noticed that she had started to cry. Lydia wasn’t aware of her actions anymore. She didn’t remember how she started the car or drove into the dark, she only came back to her senses when she found herself parked in front of the Stilinski house, the urge to get inside so strong now, that she didn’t even have to tell her limbs to move anymore. They did it all by themselves.

She got out of the car running inside. She didn’t knock, she knew the Sheriff wasn’t home and the door wasn’t locked. She ran for the second floor and suddenly found herself in front of Stiles’ room, busting the door open, not even thinking about her actions. He was lying on the floor shaking. Tears had ran down his cheeks, his eyes were red, his breathing uneven. He looked up at her but didn’t say anything, his eyes did all the talking. Even though Lydia could see the confusion behind them, she could also see his relief. The same emotion she was feeling besides all the fear as well. Relief that she had made it. That she was with him now.

She kneeled down beside him, quickly helping him sit up. The moment she touched his skin, she felt a tingling sensation in her fingers. He looked at her and she knew he could feel it too. She carefully placed her palms on his. Lydia could feel the calmness spreading through her. The warmth that seemed to travel between them. Stiles’ breathing had normalized again and there was this silence between them, that didn’t feel at all uncomfortable, but wonderfully soothing. They just sat there for a while, holding hands, feeling the calmness spread inside them. Lydia could feel some tears escaping her eyes, but she noticed when she looked up that Stiles’ eyes were misty too.

She moved forward a bit, hugging the boy. The tingling sensation intensified. She felt their emotions as one, drawing calmness from the other, mending their wounds by simply being close. Their breathing was in sync and everything around them was gone. Time and space seemed to have vanished. There was just them, together in this one moment. They hadn’t said anything, too scared that the momentum would be broken, but after twenty minutes of the most soothing silence either of them had ever felt, Lydia slowly drew out of the embrace.

She traced her fingers down his chest. “Stiles.” She breathed out, for some reason still exhausted from the events prior. He looked into her eyes and smiled a genuine smile. Not happy, not sad, no exhausted, no. Just a genuine smile.

And what Lydia did next, she couldn’t explain herself. Stiles couldn’t either, but she did it and it was the most honest thing she could have done. Without even realizing that she had wanted to do this for so long, without even realizing that she had needed this, she slowly closed the gap between their lips and kissed him. She placed her hands on his cheeks, carefully drawing him closer to her. Her lips prickled and so did her whole body, as though there was champagne rushing through her veins instead of blood. She moved closer to him again, wrapping her legs around his waist. They intertwined their bodies, trying to get even closer to each other. Though they knew there wasn’t any space left between them.

Lydia took off her sweater and bra and exposed her bare chest to the boy in front of her, who suddenly wasn’t a boy anymore. He kissed her breast and sucked on her nipples. Lydia had been touched before, on multiple occasions, but the little bolts of lightnings Stiles shot through her body every time he touched or kissed her, she had never felt before. Stiles took off his shirt as well. Lydia’s anticipation rose. Her lower belly tingled in the most pleasant way, making her breathing pattern broken. She kissed his collar bones and traced his moles with her fingers all the way down his chest to the hem of his sweats. Stiles stood up and so did Lydia. She pulled his pants down and so did he with hers. They were now nearly completely naked. Stiles gripped her firmly around the waist, putting her down on his bed carefully. Lydia removed her lace thong and now lay completely exposed in front of him, but in contrast to all the times she had slept with guys, feeling selfconscious often, she trusted him so much, that she didn’t even have time to think about her insecurities. Stiles pulled off his boxers and gently placed himself on top of Lydia’s naked body. They both felt electrified.

It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t quick, it wasn’t dirty. It wasn’t what Lydia Martin was used to, but god was it better. The way he set the pace and cared about her. The way he kissed her so innocently, yet so precise and determined. The way he allowed them to completely melt together. Their climax was in sync and it felt as though their emotions were one, feeling for the most fleeting of moments, whole. It was nothing she had expected, but everything she had needed.

Lydia fell asleep on his sinking and rising chest. His heartbeat calmed her down so much that she was sure she could listen to it forever and ever. Lydia didn’t know why she had driven to his house, she didn’t know how she had ended up in Stiles’ bed. Didn’t realize how much she had thought about this before. But the moment she had set foot in his room, she had realized. It was him. It had always been him. The sensations in her chest. It was him, their connection. And when she had touched him, she was sure. It didn’t feel like anything she had ever felt before. Nothing she would ever be able to describe, but she didn’t need to. Because she knew Stiles could feel it too and that was enough.

After that night the mood swings changed. They were softer, more precise. Lydia could tell what he was feeling with absolute certainty. And so could Stiles. It didn’t come to them as a surprise anymore, it didn’t shock them. Their emotional tether had drawn them so close together, that their souls had collapsed into each other. It was what Deaton had meant, what he wasn’t sure about, because it was rare. Very rare, even in the supernatural world. But every once in a while it happened. Melting two souls together, but only and just only when they were meant to be one from the beginning.


End file.
